I smile. It’s the one thing I can’t stop doing. There’s something about his pristine wardrobe, with pressed shirts and steamed linen, that invites anarchy. “And you hate it so very much, don’t you?”
“Loathe it,” he says. His voice sounds so close in here,amplified by the marble. “Have you canceled that penis enlargement you booked?”
I rummage through my makeup bag for concealer. “No. Not yet.”
“I don’t need it,” he says, and sits down on the ledge of the bathtub.
“Well,” I say, and turn back to regard him. I try very hard to just focus on his skin and the bruise. “I don’t know that for certain.”
His lips tug into a smile, and I quickly shake my head. “Don’t say another word.”
His smile widens, but he’s quiet. I step between his splayed knees. I felt him hard against me, that night on the dock. But it wasn’t enough to tell. Not that I would want to know either way. It doesn’t matter.
“Sit still. This might hurt a little,” I say.
“You’ll enjoy it, then,” he says.
I think of watching the punches land yesterday, watching him absorb them. Hear his inhale at the pain.No, I think.I won’t.
But I don’t say that part out loud.
“Your skin is more olive-toned than mine.”
“More what?”
“Olive-toned. But I’ll mix it with some bronzer afterward… it should work. Will it be dark at the party?”
“I assume so.”
“Good.” I pad concealer against the ring beneath his eye. The skin didn’t split, and it’s not too swollen. With some luck, changing the coloring will be enough.
“I like your sister,” I say. She told me all about the new fashion line she’s designing. “She knows clothes.”
“Mhm. She does.”
“Does she work with you? At Maison Valmont?”
“On and off,” he says. “She has a seat on the board, ofcourse. But she wants to design her own collection first. I hope she’ll join me one day.”
I use my fingertip to pad the concealer into his warm skin. He doesn’t flinch, but it must be sore. He means join him in running the empire. Of course. Now he does it mainly alone.
“Does she know?” I ask. “About the fighting?”
His eyes flash to mine, and he’s silent for so long that I think he won’t answer me. But then he sighs. “The guys know. But not her, and not Amber.”
“You two seem close,” I say. It’s hard, when you’ve never had a sibling, to imagine the bond. As a child, I was so jealous of my friends with sisters.
“Nora can’t find out,” he says. There’s a warning note in his voice.
“Why not?” I ask.
“She’d worry, and I don’t want her to worry. That’s my job.” His jaw works. “Not hers.”
I lean back. There’s such conviction in his voice. His eyes look up at me, and for a moment I can’t think of a single thing to say.
I once dismissed him as a man who didn’t care about anything.
I know now that was very wrong.
